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The perfect summer day is setting into the perfect summer's eve. Though the fiery ball of the sun is sinking below the horizon, the farmer's market is still crowded with nobles and peasants alike, vying for the best of what's left at the end of a long market day. Amalthea is among them, at a stand selling potatoes, looking genuinely frustrated as she rolls one between her palms, lifts it to her golden-dark eyes like she might be able to discern its value better that way. The Earl's stablemaster, wearing the same stable fare of leggings, a plain tunic, and tall boots, as she does any other day, shrugs, puts that potato down. Much to the chagrin of the shopkeeper, she plucks up another.

Having earned his spurs in the last few days, Talfryn decided to stick around Sarum for a small time before returning to Idmiston. Today, he walks through the farmer's market- stopping at the same stall Almathea happens to be at. He does give a little look over to the stablemaster- a quiet thing- before he looks at what the farmer in question has for sale. He lifts a pear, giving it a quiet look before he nods to himself. "So, are they ripe?" he asks over to Amalthea with a quiet half smile gracing his features.

As Talfryn approaches, Amalthea shifts to usurp the potato section territorialy, bumping a hip against the stand to cut the man off should he try to poach a potato. When he turns to the pears instead, the Dinton relaxes, even offers him a friendly, effervescent smile. "The pears? Or the potatoes?" She lifts the potato to her eyeline once more, staring at it, teeth nibbling lips. "Honestly?" she casts the man a chagrined look, full of humorous self-deprecation. "I have no idea. Cooking has never been my strong suit, and comparing potatoes to horses as I've been trying to do for the last little while, is not working. So I do hope you're not asking my professional opinion."

"Oh, they can't be that different, can they? Last I checked, we still dug horses out of the horse-mines. That is how it works, isn't it?" Tal wonders simply, as he checks another fruit- an apple. "Why not ask the farmer?" he wonders curiously, looking towards the person manning the stand. "I'm sure he knows." he says with that same quiet half-smile. "Honestly, if it isn't fruit, I'm really of no use. But, I grew up with orchards- not potatoes."

The long-suffering farmer gives Talfryn a look that speaks of his exasperation with the stablemaster's heel-dragging. "The lady /did/ ask me," he grumbles, though strives to remain polite. "And I pointed her to the best that was left, for coming so late in the day." A pointed look is cast to Amalthea, who doesn't manage to look at all abashed. Instead, she replies, "Yes, well, you try working for the Earl, hm? Instead of just tithing a portion of your pay to him. I assure you, tis a different matter entirely!" Her voice notches, and she turns a pained look to Talfryn. "They felt like mush. I could not get away sooner. You see my dilemma? Perhaps I should just have a fruit dinner this eve!" She eyes him hopefully.

"Well, fruit is certainly sweeter. And who doesn't want a bit of sweetness in their evenings?" Talfryn offers to Amalthea with that same half-smile. "Pears and apples, perhaps with some hazelnuts." he says, as he looks to the stall again, looking over the apples and pears that remain.

"Well then," Talfryn begins to pull fruit out from the cart- putting them to a side. Apples and pears, along with some Raspberries and a few handfuls of hazelnuts. "I suppose that is as much a request as any other." he says with a quiet smile to both farmer and Amalthea. He pulls a bit of money out from a pouch on his hip and pays for the food. "There we are, a fruit dinner that should bring a smile to any tummy."

It would have, had not a page come running at Amalthea full speed, skidding to a stop just moments before a collision might have happened. "Lady Amalthea! Lady Amalthea! The charger, he's got a wound from the skirmishes and the Earl needs him looked at right away!" The young stablelad bounces from foot to foot, hopping around like a bunny stuck with a briar, while he beckons the Dinton. In her turn, she looks worried, and then guilty, as she glances back to Talfryn. "I owe you dinner, sir…" she flails for a name and comes up empty, but she's already half-turned, ready to dash back to the stables. "Find me at the Earl's stable and I shall pay up!"

Tal gives a quiet, good humored laugh. "Best to take care of your duties, good Lady." he says, as he looks to the page and passes half the fruit over to the young man, some of the finer apples and pears being slid into his pouch. "Enjoy it, boy. Share it with the others." he offers, with a tip of his head before he continues on his way with that same happy half-smile stuck on his face.